Dealing in Futures: A Play in Three Acts

by Harold Brighouse

MRS. WIL. (with tears). Bless you, sir, tha's taken a load off my mind. A couldn't abide thowt o' my man's not bein' buried proper.

CHARLIE. What you've got to talk to Mr. Thompson about is the future.

MRS. WIL. (resignedly). It'll 'ave to be th' 'ouse for me.

CHARLIE. Oh, nonsense. You'll get compensation.

MRS. WIL. Must A ask the master for it, sir?

CHARLIE. Certainly.

MRS. WIL. A misdoubt A'll never 'ave th' face to do it.

CHARLIE. You've nothing to be' afraid of. It'll be all right, Mrs. Wdcock.

MRS. WIL. (dolefully). A never thowt as mine 'ud be workus children.

CHARLIE. They won't be. You needn't fear that. (Dowden, a young clerk of about twenty-eight, opens the door l. He is cirefully dressed, but his clothes have seen better days.)